Walking Dead: Prophet
by FloodFeSTeR
Summary: Major Lauren Barnes, a.k.a - Prophet, is not trained for the apocalypse, but she's survived it either way. When she meets Daryl Dixon, they're instantly hooked. Will they be the key to saving everyone, or will they get swallowed in this world like everyone else? - - Fast paced romance/lust, dark themes, Originally titled Follow You Home - -
1. Done

_**11:10 - 3/11/14**_

_**For those that don't realize this, I got my inspiration for this from Crysis 3 (it's a videk game). Many of the OC's I'm implementing are from the Crysis franchise and so is the squad name Raptor. Its sort of a crossover, but not really because none of the characters are the same just the names (which most are slightky changed) and something else I added in that won't be touched on for awhile.**_

_**Disclaimer (s): Walking Dead does not belong to me.**_

_**Minor Detail: My OC isn't 'curvy' like Megan Fox or anything. She is a little chunky and her hips show it along with her bust. She's more muscular than chunky.**_

* * *

Atlanta, Georgia.

Lying in ruins sits a flaming building and a tank.

It's scorched and spotted with blood, bodies lying scattered around its hull. Beside the hatch lies a Ham Radio, placed for better service, and then the hatch opens. A curved figure wiggles their way out of the hatch, face covered in a bandana and shaded goggles. Blonde hair peaks out from under the wrap on their head. A gloved hand comes up and tugs the bandana from their mouth and they suck in a breath, pink lips chapped from lack of care. They sting and itch, but it's nothing.

Major Lauren Barnes has been trained to handle worse, much worse.

She reaches down and picks up the mic, pressing the button on the right side and she gets a small screech before silence. "Romeo 1 calling into Romeo Actual..." she waited, but when no sound is heard she sighs. "Major Lauren Barnes calling into Romeo Actual," she still didn't get a response, so she sighed again and curled her right leg towards the sky, propping her right arm on it while she cradled the mic in her left hand. "I know no one can hear me...knowing my luck I'm the only one left in the United States...but standard protocol is something I follow and I am calling in to report that I am the only surviving member of Raptor Team."

Her eyes flicker behind the goggles, looking for the dead, but finding only a plastic bag fluttering across the lawn of the CDC. It had been burning for months now, she remembered the day the building erupted into an inferno. She had tried to flag down the people escaping but she had no such luck. She hadn't been alone then so it hadn't really mattered, but now she was alone and it was scary. But Lauren was a soldier, she could do this.

"Psycho - Sergeant Michelle Sykes - was in the lavatory just off site of our station when she dissapeared a week ago. I have not found a body so I am assuming the second worse, she has been abducted. Aztec - Harold Corte - was killed by undead approximately Three weeks ago. If his family is there, if anyone is there, please let them know he did not die in vain. Jester - Medic Martia Hawker - died of infection ten days after the destruction of the CDC She has no family to report to. Nomad - Lieutenant Jamie Dunn - went AWOL three months after the contagion spread."

She looked down over the edge of the tank, towards the cannon, and sighed, letting her finger off of the button to the mic and she pressed the back of her hand against her forehead. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and took in a deep breath, trying to fight the headache coming to her. After a few minutes she took in a calming breath and pressed the button again, opening her eyes.

"The scientists that were deployed with us are long gone. I will keep the tech safe for as long as I can or until I find someone that knows what they're doing. I guess I'm wearing it...I have to leave or I'll die in vain. So this will be the last transmission from Major Lauren Barnes..."

* * *

The hallways echo back the voice, papers fluttering around a breeze coming in through a window just below the ceiling. Its dark, the generators have gone out.

"It's a shame that this is how I say goodbye to the people I practically grew up with..."

The cafeteria is empty, rotting food left in strays, smeared on the floor with boot prints left in a haste. A lab coat drenched in dry blood hangs over the back of a chair, swaying slightly.

"I'll keep my promise and make sure the tech finds a safe haven. No one worry about that..."

A tray falls as a dead lab worker shuffles towards the voice, thinking only about the hunger it cannot satiate.

"What am I saying, there's no one left on the base. I'm alone out here..."

The dead man reaches out and hits the radio settled in the corner, knocking it to the ground and then it turns, body pressing firmly against the wall as it keeps walking.

"Just thought I should let someone know, if there was anyone left..."

The radio sputters, the lights going out in the dial and then the radio hisses again.

"Raptor Team was going to be it, but now we're gon. And I'm leaving for a place called Terminus..."

The mic clicks and the dead man slumps to the ground in front of it, blood coming up behind the teeth as a bullet rolls away.

"I don't know what it is, but I've seen enough fresh signs around the city to know its safe. Just gotta follow the railrlad tracks north. If anyone hears this, meet me there..."

The figure crouches down beside the radio, using a finger to move around the mic.

"I don't know if I'll make it, but here's to hoping..."

* * *

_**R&R please.**_


	2. Prophet

_**12:54 p.m. – 3/14/14**_

_To be clear, Prophet is Laurens code name from when she was in the military special forces. I will be using her codename starting at this chapter. Her real name will not be visited for some time._

* * *

Major Lauren Barnes stared down at the fire in front of her with a forlorn look.

A sigh came from her lips as one of the small logs that she had placed inside of the pit collapsed and the flames were effectively snuffed out. She reached her right hand up and scratched at the back of her head, eyes closing as she craned her neck forward. She had been in her small camp for three days, unmoving. Three days in camp, ten days on the tracks, fifteen days since she had left her post. She didn't like being out here, away from her tank, she felt so exposed.

Lauren had always had a tank or a bullet proof vest, a rifle or a machete. Now she was left with a single rifle and a pack full of ammunition. She had left behind her armor in the tank, folded neatly in a corner, and had taken to her combat boots, a blood stained tank top and her cargo pants. Her old partner, and best friend, Psycho, would have already started grating on her nerves about how feminine she looked. Lauren wasn't that type, that was why she had joined the army, that was why she had done all that she had.

"Guess its time to move on," she mumbled, grunting as she pushed herself to her feet.

Terminus, it was a set point up the tracks.

Every few miles she saw a new sign and that meant she was headed in the right direction. But after ten days of walking, Lauren felt like she was getting nowhere. She knew Terminus was far, but damn. She gave a long sigh and adjusted the strap of her pack. If she didn't need to get to some sort of civilization. Well, as long as they were sane. If they weren't, well she would just keep this secret to herself until she found the right people. She knew the best bet would be to try and make it to D.C., but that would be a hell of a walk and she didn't think she could make it alone. She would need help. But trustworthy people were so hard to find nowadays.

Lauren paused in the center of the tracks, looking around at the darkness surrounding her. She absolutely _did not_ like being so…in the dark. But she wasn't afraid, nothing could scare Lauren. She had seen worse things than a bunch of thieves and murderers. She had interrogated terrorists, been through jungles to snipe out drug lords, been held hostage in foreign countries. The apocalypse was not something that frightened her. She had only lost her cool when she found she was alone, and that had been for a minute. She had recovered fast, knowing her team mates, her friends, would not tolerate knowing that she had turned into something they had been trained to not be. Psycho had laughed at her when they were sent on their first mission into Columbia. Lauren had been shaking like a leaf, holding onto her parachute tightly while the storm outside rocked the frame of the plane they were in.

* * *

"_Holy shit, Prophet is shaking," Psycho laughed, her strangely deep voice echoing off of the steel walls around them._

_Lauren, or Prophet, glared at her friend. "Shut up Psycho, it's our first mission, the jitters are sort of a part of the package."_

_Psycho snorted, flipping back her deep burgundy hair. "For you maybe, but I'm excited. I can't wait to kill some fucking commandos."_

"_There aren't any commandos out here," Jester grinned at her. "But there are well trained lions they have roaming around. Attack anything but a familiar face."_

_Psycho laughed, it sounded manic, fitting her code name perfectly. She raised a middle finger at Jester and the young cadet grinned again, her green eyes marvelous. "Jester suck my left nut," Psycho quipped, a smile still on her face._

_Aztec looked up, his face set to disbelief. "Ladies, how about some etiquette," he bowed his head slightly, a small smile on his lips. "We are not a bunch of troopers, we are Raptor Team, special forces. We don't behave like animals."_

_Psycho rolled her eyes, Jester still grinning. "Come on Aztec, get that stick out of your ass. Our very first mission and you mean to tell me you're not just a little excited?"_

_He shook his head, flipping the page of the book in his lap, eyes running over the words swiftly. "I do not get excited over trivial things."_

_Psycho made a haughty face, shaking her shoulders a bit. "Well, I'm excited…"_

* * *

"Looks like we got us a pretty young filly, boys."

Lauren sneered. "Looks like I found me a group of clichés."

The leader, a man with drying blood across his upper lips, glared at her. "Mouthy bitch."

She rolled her eyes and cocked a hip, placing her fist on it. "What the hell do any of you want?"

They all chuckled in precession, making everything more ominous, but Lauren was not deterred. The man she presumed was the leader of this gaggle of idiots swaggered forward, too cocky with her for his own good. Lauren quickly made note of the man standing behind him with the crossbow cradled in his hands, meeting his eyes for a moment before the man took a hold of her chin.

Lauren saw red.

She screamed in anger, twisted her right leg out and around, successfully knocking him onto his ass while she pulled her gun from her back, slinging it around and firing once into a black mans stomach. His eyes grew wide and he coughed out a mouthful of blood, which sprayed across her right cheek, and she knocked the butt of her rifle in the left shin of a man trying to catch her from behind. He crumbled to the ground, clutching his leg while his rifle slid towards her. She lifted her right leg and slammed her boot down on the barrel of the rifle, successfully shattering it into pieces while an arrow sunk into her arm. But she just grit her teeth and looped the pack around her neck, reaching down for what remained of the torn gun and she swung it around into the side of the man with the crossbows skull. He fell to the pavement with a hollow thud, his eyes wide and his mouth gaping like a fishes. The wind had been knocked out of him and there was blood coming from the ear she had hit.

Another arrow flew past her face and she swung the barrel around once more, knocking the next man out. his bow slid around to his right and Lauren dove for it, twisting back around as another man made it to her. She grit her teeth and dropped her weapon, forcing the man's head between the string and the frame of the bow. She braced her chest against his back and got the string snug in the crook of his throat, catching his Adam's apple and tugging up forcefully. His body began to convulse as he tried to pry the bow from his throat. She grinned maniacally as he began to really gasp for air.

The leader made it to his feet then, a wide grin on his face with his eyes half lidded. He began to clap, but Lauren did not let up on her attempt at draining the life from this man, she merely locked eyes with the leader. "Well done, well done, I assume army? First Recon maybe?"

"Special forces," she quipped. "Now give me one good reason why I shouldn't finish this man off."

He shrugged. "Kill him if you like, you have already killed the one I actually _liked_," he mused. "Name's Joe Porter, and may you grace me with your name?"

She stared at him for a long time. "Prophet."

His eyes sparkled. "Ah, Prophet. It is truly a wonderful name. I will not ask for your real name, anonymity is something we are allowed nowadays," he reached into his back pocket, eyes watching as his men slowly made it back to their feet. He pulled out a crumpled cigarette butt and lit it, chuckling as he pulled the cigarette away from his lips. "You are certaintly one interesting little bird, Prophet."

"Get to the point of this little show," she growled, tugging the string higher and forcing the man to flail even more. "My patience is wearing thin."

His eyes were just full of adoration for her. "I could use a soldier like you on my side, what d'ya say?"

"What do you need soldiers for? Looking to start a war?"

"Maybe, maybe," he took a mute drag from his cigarettes, waving his hands around as he exhaled. "Either way, would you care to join us?"

Lauren – or rather, Prophet – looked around at the men staring at her, seeing how much damage she had dealt, and then knew why she was entrusted with the tech, why this man wanted her on his side. Her eyes slid back to him dramatically slow. She stared at Joe with as much malice as anyone could ever muster and then abruptly dropped the man in her grasp. He crumpled to the ground, gasping loudly for air, and Prophet tossed the bow back to its owner. He caught it easily, nodding at her in slight respect, more of fear, and then she nodded at Joe.

"I'll join you, if you tell me where it is we're going."

He grinned, smoke flowing out of his nostrils. "Terminus my dear."

* * *

_So what you guys think of Lauren (Prophet)? I've never written fight scenes like this – meaning between people – like ever, unless it was between mutants – check Fester, my Hills Have Eyes story – and I want to know if I did a good job. Chapters will be getting longer but I won't be able to post as often, just a warning._


	3. Core

_**2:14 p.m. – 3/14/14**_

_I think I'm gonna have fun with this story. From what I've observed with Joe, he's ruthless but intelligent and he knows what he's doing. The female partner of Ricks is from my other story The Damned Don't Cry. It's on my other profile Vatos, I share it with my friend Frera but I can't deal with my Rick/OC story right now so I just added Lloverra to this story._

_Prophet – Lauren Barnes_

* * *

Prophet kept to herself that night.

She watched them make a fire and gather around it, laugh and boast about nonsense. Her back leant up against a tree, she strummed her fingers on the pack in her lap. She wouldn't be sleeping tonight, or for a few nights at that. She didn't know these men, she didn't trust these men, and she wasn't going to for awhile. One kept their eyes on her, a man introduced as Daryl. He hadn't said a word the entire time she had been in their company; she hadn't gave a second thought as to whether it was her presence that made him to stoic, in truth she didn't care. They, meaning these men, were headed along the tracks, towards Terminus, where Prophet had to go. They wanted to start a war, she wanted to get this tech somewhere safe. If someone inside Terminus proved to be intelligent enough to handle this, she would fight to protect the place. If they were useless, she would help Joe and his group fight, if it meant staying alive.

In truth, Prophet didn't know what she wanted to do. What she had desired most, to see Psycho again, was a useless hope now. She had come to the understanding that they would never be reunited.

"Prophet."

Her attention was caught by Joe, who was waving her towards them. Tension laced through her shoulders. "What?"

"Come join us, regale in tales of your past."

Prophet scoffed, eyes narrowing slightly. "Hell no."

He wasn't offended, he just laughed. "Such a spoil sport."

"She said she no," Daryl muttered, speaking for the first time that night. "Leave 'er alone."

The whole group looked over at him, a few of them slightly stunned in how he had actually _spoken_. Prophet stared at him and then their eyes locked. She nodded strictly at him and he nodded as well, pushing himself to his feet. No one said anything to him, but Prophet was actually curious. She didn't know why, maybe it was just that he was so aloof. Or maybe because he reminded her of Jester, her old partner.

Of course, no matter how curious she was, she wouldn't follow like she wanted to. Conditioned to disobey basic instincts. Prophet was the ultimate killing machine, she wouldn't give in so easily to that girl side of her that was drawn to a man. A man who was rough. A man who was safe.

* * *

Prophet woke up to something less than pleasant.

Someone tugging at the zipper to her pants.

Her eyes snapped open and she growled, her left leg curling against her chest and she let it snap forward, hearing a man's howl as her boot connected with someone's nose. She curled both legs back to her chest and swung them out, managing to get onto her feet and then she slammed her read end down on his stomach, pulling her combat knife from her belt and she pressed it against his throat tightly.

"You'd think you would have learned when I attacked your friend," she hissed lowly into his ear, watching his Adam's Apple bob against the edge of her blade in the faint morning light.

"F-Fuckin bitch," he choked out, squirming beneath her.

Prophet supposed this is what she gets for falling asleep. Prophet never fell asleep when she had made plans not too. She must have gone longer without sleep than she had previously thought. But she wasn't going to just let him do what he wanted. What kind of idiot was he, thinking he could do something like that while she was asleep? He was stupid, probably drunk judging by the reek of alcohol coming from his mouth.

"Now now," Joe muttered sleepily, sitting up from his spot beside an oak tree. "It's too early for all this, now what did you do Tony?"

Prophet let up on the blade enough to where he could talk, but by the blood blooming through the stubble along his throat, it was still causing some sort of damage. "Didn' do anything," he managed, coughing and then cringing.

"You fucking liar," Prophet hissed between her teeth, pressing down again. "Tell him, tell him that you were trying to get into my pants while I was asleep."

"Tell him," Daryl commented from behind Prophet, hovering with approving eyes.

Joe looked between Daryl and Prophet, then he looked to Tony. "That true?"

Tony hesitated, obviously fearing something that was in Joe's voice. Prophet noticed it as well and her eyes wandered to him briefly, wandering what he had in mind. Either way, she thinks she would enjoy it.

"Y-Yeah it's true."

Joe tsked and pushed himself to his feet. "Well that's just a shame," Joe waved a hand at Prophet, beckoning her to follow him. "Boys, take care of him. Prophet, care to join me?"

Prophet narrowed her eyes at him but then nodded and jumped to her feet, immediately being replaced by the other men of the group, minus one Daryl. She stared for a moment as Tony was repeatedly kicked and slammed down on with the butts of everyone's rifles. He deserved every bit of that, in Prophets mind. She nodded mutely and turned, following Joe out into the trees. She didn't know what he wanted, but she, in a way, respected Joe already. He was calm, never losing his temper, but he was a vicious leader. That made for respect, or resentment. He needed to be careful in his way of disciplining.

"What did you want from me, Joe?"

He chuckled ahead of her, looking up as leaves fluttered down with a gust of strong wind. "Just curious as to what your plans are."

"My plans?"

He nodded and stopped, looking back at her. She stopped and then took a step back, keeping an obvious distance between them. She may have respected him in some twisted way, but that didn't mean that she trusted him with her life.

"Yeah, your plans. I'm not an idiot, and your not an idiot. Seen the way you keep that pack so close," in response to his words, she adjusted the straps of the pack. "You got somethin important, I ain't gonna pry and ask what it is. I just wanna know if you will be leavin us anytime soon."

"I will be leaving once we get to Terminus. If there is any intelligent human being there, I will stay, if not, I'm headed towards D.C."

Joe smiled. "Dedicated soldier."

Prophet nodded. "Yes, I was trained to be this way and it is the way I am going to stay. I refuse to stoop to a lower level. Giving up on my mission counts as low level."

He nodded, his shoulders moving with the effort, and he brushed his hair back from his face. "I like that, I like it a lot, that's why I offered you to join us from the beginning."

"No, I know what your plans were Joe," she muttered. "Like you said, I'm not stupid."

"That I did, that I did," he smiled at her knowingly. "Fine, you caught me in my lie. You know the rules by now right?"

Prophet stared at him as he maneuvered himself in front of her, arms out at his sides. The rules? Oh yeah, a liar gets punished. She contemplated it for a moment and then shook her head, taking two more steps back from him. The look that crossed his face was too complicated to read but Prophet didn't care about that. She cared about the fact that he was willing to let her injure him in any way. What did he really want from her? She could ask, but he would more than likely give a false answer, and that was no way to do Prophet. She would then kill him and escape before anyone noticed. She already had several plans laid out in her mind, all of them ending in her getting away somehow.

"No," she shook her head again. "I won't do that to you."

He almost looked disappointed. "Oh really? And why not?"

"Because I'm just not going to do that to you," she stated simply, readjusting the pack on her shoulder. "Listen, if this is how you expect me to behave I can't be with you guys."

Joe stared at her, eyes flickering up and down and then he nodded. "Fine, fine the rules don't apply to you how about that?"

She shook her head. "No, then that is a cause for a disruption with the men. Just…I don't know anymore. Let's get back before they kill him. We need as many people as we can keep if we're doing what you think we are."

He nodded immediately. "Yes, we do. But what do you care about it?"

Was he testing her patience? Was he trying to see how far he could push her before she snapped, because it seemed to be the way this was going? Prophet was a trained killer. She knew how to keep her emotions in check, but right now she could just picture herself crouched above him, beating his head in with a cast iron frying pan. So maybe she didn't have complete control over her emotions after all. She looked him up and down, half turned back towards the direction their camp was, and then she grinned, obviously catching him off guard for a moment.

"Stop testing my patience Joe," she stated perfectly, her voice pitched high. "Or I will take up your offer and decapitate you, have I made myself clear?"

He smiled as well, but it was wary, cautious. "Yes, I believe you have."

"Good," she gestured for him to go ahead of herself. "Now, after you."

* * *

Rick stared up at the ceiling, thoughts racing in and out between the wrinkles in his brain, finger tips twitching as he tried to think through the adrenaline coursing through him. Nothing was going as planned, everything was going horribly wrong and there was nothing he could do to stop it at this point. Everything was literally crumbling down around him, making anything difficult. He could hear the screams, see the fire, but he couldn't stop it.

"Rick!"

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out her screams. "I can't save you," he whispered.

Like Lori.

Like Carl.

Like Michonne.

Like Daryl.

Like Hershel.

Like Carol and Judith and Lizzie and Mika and Merle and Beth and Maggie and Glenn and everyone else that got left behind. He couldn't save anyone, he was a horrible father and a horrible leader.

"Rick Grimes! You get your ass up right now!"

What was the point?

"Fuck – Rick!"

He chanced a look towards her, seeing her waiting for him, blood matted in her curls and that damned cat held in her arms. The blood coming from her forehead had run down her face in a thick stream and she had to keep her left eye closed, making moving difficult until she came face to face with him. The feline in her arms had its claws dug impossibly deep into her chest but Lloverra didn't seem to notice, she was more focused on Rick.

"Rick," she flinched as something fell deeper into the lit house, seeing sparks shooting through the hallway to their right like in a bad movie. "Rick, come on we gotta go, the whole building is gonna come down on us!"

He shook his head. "No, there's no point. I would only make it worse on you."

She grit her teeth and pulled one arm from the feline companion, grabbing a firm hold of his right bicep. "Rick grimes you are going to get your self pitying ass off this floor and you are going to march out that door right now or so help me God I will unleash this cat on you, do I make myself clear?"

He stared at her for a moment and then he smiled, nodding as she helped him to his feet. "Alright…alright let's get out of here."

She nodded and wrapped her arm back around the cat and they hurried towards the door, jogging away from the house before they paused and looked back. it didn't collapse, but the puffs of smoke belching out of the roof was enough proof that it was going to collapse any minute now. Lloverra swallowed thickly and then reached out to Rick, fumbling for his hand and finally catching it. She gave it a firm squeeze and then looked up at him, seeing his eyes still on her.

"We'll find him Rick," she promised, determination set in her jaw.

He nodded after a moment. "I know we will…"

She swallowed again and looked back at the house. "Carl is a tough young man, he won't go down so easy. Let's just focus on resting for a moment."

"Where can we do that?"

She shrugged and looked over her shoulder, brow furrowing as she heard something crackling through the trees. After another moment of standing still her eyes widened a fraction and she forcibly pulled Rick towards an old Chevy truck frame that was sitting amongst a thicket of weeds. They crouched down on the opposite side of it, Lloverra doing the peeking as she pulled out Rick's colt from the back of her jeans.

The figure that came from the bushes was not a Walkers, for a moment, Lloverra wondered if it was or ever had been human. They were shaped strangely; their arms and legs seemed to have ridges and bumps along the skin but they were obviously female. Their facial structure was soft, throwing contrast to the hard look in their eye and the military clothing they wore that was in desperate need of care. Lloverra could smell them from where she was, of course, Rick and Lloverra didn't smell any better. Her hair was in makeshift dreads, pinned back with what looked like old clothes line.

The woman cleared her throat and the she spoke, sounding bored. "I know your behind that truck, come on out, I don't bite."

Lloverra swallowed and raised her head over the edge of the trucks bed. "We don't know that," she spoke cautiously.

The woman shrugged. "True, but wouldn't I have attacked you already?"

"No," Lloverra almost hissed. "You could just be waiting for us to get out from behind here so you have a clearer shot."

The woman smiled, nodding lightly. "Yeah, you may be right. A cautious and brash attitude. Army medic?"

Lloverra blinked and then finally stepped out from behind the truck, shaking off Rick, who reached out for her ankle. "How'd you know?"

There was a strange look in the woman's eye, like she was missing something, but then she smiled. "I was in the military, had a medic on my squad that had the same attitude."

"Very forthcoming with that information," Lloverra said skeptically.

The woman nodded and then shrugged. "Yeah well, secrets ain't worth shit now are they? This is the apocalypse, no one cares what you did before as long as you're either getting out of their way or getting their back. Now, we can sit here and talk about all the things I could do but I am going to tell you what I am going to do. First, I am Lieutenant Jamie Dunn, you may call me Nomad. Second, I am going to accompany you and that man still hiding behind that truck to Terminus and we will go from there, am I clear?"

Lloverra grinned, letting her feline down. The cat shook her shaggy fur and yawned, looking up with an almost bored expression. "My name is Lloverra, that cat down there is Puff and that man over there is Rick."

Nomad nodded. "We rest tonight, you tell me what happened in there and then we leave at the first sign of light."

Lloverra nodded with no hesitation. She had been in the military, she had known the protocols, she knew not to question any orders she was given. This was no exception. "Right," she looked over her shoulder. "Rick come on out, she's safe."

Rick was hesitant, but did as Lloverra instructed. "How do you know?"

Lloverra smiled at him. "Because I grew up with people like her, trust ne, she's safe," she looked back to Nomad. "You don't look like typical military, special forces?"

"Yep."

"Then what are you doing alone? Special forces doesn't usually mean you're alone."

Nomad's eyes wandered to Rick as he joined Lloverra's side and then she looked back to the woman herself. "To say I abandoned my team would be sadly correct, but I had an actual purpose in doing so and Terminus holds my answers."

"Going AWOL is not acceptable no matter the situation," Lloverra spoke sternly, remembering her days in boot camp.

Nomad waved a hand. "You are smart, but you were not in the same category as I was. The mission is everything and this mission was known by the rest of my squad; they would do the same if they were in my shoes. First to leave was the one designated to complete the mission, I left to spare my CO her trek."

Lloverra smiled a little. "You and your CO are close."

"She is my CO, of course I wish to make as many things as I can easy on her. She has a lot on her plate for the moment."

"How do you know she is still alive?"

Nomad grinned. "Because she is my CO, she is the Prophet."

* * *

_I had a lot of fun with this._


	4. Plans

_**2:03 a.m. – 4/3/14**_

_I meant to do this earlier, but I got swept up in writing the last chapter and it slipped my mind. A big thank you to the two guests that have reviewed and taylorgrimsley.14; if I do change this story to an M rating I will let you know why. I tend to slip into darker subject and I forgot to change the rating of my other Walking Dead story (The Divide) to an M rating and I got in trouble for it so I am just being cautious right now, seeing how far I can go before it is really considered M._

_Jamie Dunn – Nomad_

_Lauren Barnes – Prophet_

* * *

Terminus.

It is defined as a final point in space or time; an end or extremity.

To put it simply, _the end._

Why does this matter? If you ask that question, you have no interest in truly anything important.

Terminus could mean anything nowadays, but that is how it is described in old dictionaries. Not many people hear that word anymore; in the 1800's it was a common name. It was an end to the tracks, the city of Atlanta, Georgia was named Terminus at one point.

* * *

_Terminus. Sanctuary for all. Community for all. Those who arrive, survive._

Lloverra and Rick stared at the ham radio Nomad had produced from the pack on her back. The dial hissed and flipped back over to the left side of the dial, the message repeating and causing the dial to flip again. Nomad took a sip from the canteen in her hand and passed it over to Rick, who was no longer eyeing her with suspicious eyes.

"What do you think," Nomad muttered, reaching over for the canteen once Rick was through with it.

Lloverra watched the canteen pass her vision before her hand fluttered down to Puff, who was cleaning herself against Lloverra's side. "Sounds too promising," She looked over at Nomad. "Can you tell me why you're going there?"

Nomad sloshed a mouthful of water around for a moment before she swallowed it and capped the canteen, stuffing it into the side of her pack again. "Terminus is an actual place. My squad set it up once the contagion spread. We were taking in people when we were called to pick up a package from the CDC. We left a man named Ishmael and a small squad of soldiers in charge while we picked up the package. Once we had it, the CDC was obliterated. I wasn't there at the time, but I waited around, seeing the explosion from miles away."

Rick's tension caught Nomad's eyes and she looked up at him, waiting. After a moment of staring he cleared his throat. "My group…we escaped the day the CDC combusted…a scientist named Jenner was the last one there. He told me about the virus, that it wasn't just caused by a scratch or a bite, that no matter how you die you become one of those things."

Nomad looked down for a moment, to the fire. "You should have ran into my squad then."

"We saw no one, no one contacted us."

Nomad was silent for a moment again and then she smiled a little. "Probably left to get the job done," she chuckled, shaking her head a little. "Prophet would be pissed if she found out I was headed back to Terminus."

"Why," Lloverra asked with oddly wide eyes.

"Because after we left, once we made it to Atlanta, Terminus stopped reciprocating our com chats. They cut us off of the line. It takes someone with military experience to just sever a line like that. Or you have to be a big idiot with an insane amount of luck on your side. Either way, she wouldn't be too happy with me going back."

"But why are you going back," Rick questioned, bending his right knee up to balance his arm on it. "If they severed a link, that could mean anything. They could all be dead."

Nomad shook her head and then hesitated. "No matter what, I have to get back there. I have to check for Ishmael. He was a smart man, he trained us. He should still be alive and if he is I need to get him out of there. I need to make sure he's safe."

Lloverra smiled. "I understand that," she looked to the fire and then up to the wood line. "My trainer, Jacklyn, is someone I would fight through a herd for. I miss that woman so damn much."

"Jacklyn Rodver?"

Lloverra nodded, looking to Nomad. "You met her?"

Nomad shook her head. "No, but our medic Jester had her as a mentor. Never shut up about her, she must have been one awesome lady."

Lloverra smiled warmly. "She was, I wish you could have met her. We would have even more to talk about."

Rick looked between the two women and swallowed, pushing himself up to his feet and adjusting his jacket. Nomad and Lloverra looked up at him in curiosity. "I think I'm gonna go back over to that truck…try to sleep."

Nomad and Lloverra nodded, Lloverra standing to hug him gently and give him a peck on the cheek. Her hand slid from his back as he walked towards the truck, her eyes on him the entire time. After another moment passed she sighed and turned back to the fire, sitting down with her legs crossed under her. Puff gave a slight mewl and curled into a tight ball to Lloverra's right, her purr loud and sort of obnoxious. Lloverra began to stroke the feline's fur absentmindedly, catching Nomad's gaze.

"Rick had a group at a prison not far from here…they were set up for a year before I came along. They didn't ask for much when I arrived, took me in and then they sort of interviewed me, asked me a few questions, and set me up in their cell block seeing as the others were full," Lloverra smiled gently. "Rick and I grew closer as the months went by and we were unofficially married. Well, that's what everyone else said, neither of us really paid attention to things like that…" Lloverra's lips set into a small frown. "He had a wife before, her name was Lori, and all he has left from her is a baby named Judith and we don't know where she is."

Nomad stared at the young woman across from her, sympathy plain on her face. "I am sorry."

Lloverra waved a hand. "We know that she's alive. The car seat she had been in was unbuckled, someone from the prison got her. She's in safe hands, I assure you. They're a strong group of people, the only thing that can take them down are other people and we've all gotten pretty good at hiding from humans."

"Is that what drove you from the prison," Nomad asked, poking at the fire, stirring the embers.

Lloverra nodded, though Nomad wasn't looking at her. "A man named the Governor, or Philip. He attacked once, killed his whole town pretty much, and then he came back this time with a tank and killed a man named Hershel. He was sort of the matriarch of the prison. His daughters, Maggie and Beth, had to watch him get beheaded. It was awful."

"It sounds awful."

Lloverra took in a deep breath and smiled at Nomad. "We're alive, that's all that matters," she shook her head a little. "Right now, we just want to find what's left of our group and try to piece something back together. I know the others will be headed towards Terminus…or making their own camps around the area. I don't know what to do anymore."

"Why were you two in a burning house?"

Lloverra looked up at Nomad, her mind reeling before it suddenly stopped. She looked down at the flames in front of her, remembering that brief heat and then she took in another deep breath, closing her eyes. "We were staying there while Rick recuperated. Had a woman and his son with us…"

"They got killed," Nomad stated bluntly.

Puff turned her head around and hissed at the woman but Nomad hissed back and it shut the feline up rather quickly. Lloverra pat the cat on the head, eyes opening to slits as if she were sleepy. "We don't know…"

* * *

Prophet looked up to the sky, trailing behind the men, her steps lagging and distant. Her boots thumped hollowly against the pine asphalt, her back pack bouncing against her lower back in a steady beat. She lifted the cigarette to her lips and took a drag, looking to her right as something burred her vision. It was Daryl, and he was holding out two fingers. She stared at them for a moment, one eyebrow raised, and then she passed him the cigarette.

"Yer mine now," he muttered.

Her eyes widened a fraction, her heartbeat picking up drastically. "Excuse me," she whispered in shock.

His eyes never lingered on her as he passed back the cigarette; she took it with shaky hands. "Ya mine," he finally looked over at her. "Can't touch ya if yer claimed."

"You can't do that," she refused to take a drag from her cigarette.

"Yeah I can."

"I can handle myself just fine."

" 'pparantly not," he snatched the cigarette back from her. "Or none of em would fuck with you. Yer claimed, get over it."

"Fuck off," she hissed.

"Maybe later."

Her jaw opened a fraction and clenched, making her look deviously pissed off. Dangerous. "Who th' fuck do you think you are?"

He looked over at her, the dark contrast of his bangs making his eyes look brighter than Prophet knew they were. The smoke trailed up from his parted lips, making her lick her lips in reproach, and he sniffed a little, taking a puff of the smoke with him. "Yers."

That made her stumble a bit, caught off guard by his words. "What the hell are you talking about? You drunk or something?"

He shook his head, sighing in exasperation as he let his arm dangle at his side. "Got a plan," he lifted his hand up and tapped the side of his head with the cigarette clenched between his fingers. "Can't touch what's claimed. I own ya, you own me. Can't touch either of us."

Prophet looked forward, at the men ahead of them, and then she looked back to Daryl. What was he up to? "Your serious…aren't you?"

He nodded. "Been thinkin' bout it since ya came along. Need ta get out of this group and I can't do it alone."

"Why not," she finally reached for the cigarette and took it between her lips.

"Cus they won' let ya just leave," he muttered, glaring at the back of Joe's head through his hair. "Know them better than ya do. Won't let us go without either takin our shit or our lives."

"So we kill them first," she mused. "Sounds harder in my head than out loud."

"Cus it is, they ain' stupid," he spat out the last word with venom.

"To me they are."

"Pride will get ya killed with them," Daryl warned. "Dealt with men like this ma whole life, know what I'm talkin' bout."

Prophet supposed he was right. He was a stereotypical pinnacle of white trash son. He gave the aura of no-bullshit and Prophet liked that. But she didn't trust him fully. Her paranoia was linked to the bag on her back. She knew everyone wanted to know what it was, why she kept it so close all the time and she wouldn't be surprised if they tried to take it from her, but they physically couldn't for more than one reason. He could just be gaining her trust, _claiming her_, so he could swipe the bag and they could bust it open. The thought alone made her angry and her fingers coiled tighter around the strap, her glare deepening on the sky above everyone's heads.

"Fuck me over," she started. "And I'll kill you."

He looked over at her and she rolled her head, locking eyes with him. Daryl knew she wasn't bluffing. He knew how dangerous she was and that was why he chose to do this. Perfect get away partner, if he would say so himself. Skilled, dangerous, she would be able to hold herself easy when they tried to slip away. Daryl had a bad feeling about these guys. He didn't like the rules, they were a cause for a fight, they would get another one of them killed soon. He had to get away, with his life preferably intact.

"Gimme three days," he muttered. "Then we go."

Prophet nodded, blowing smoke from her mouth. "I can do that, I can totally do that."

* * *

_This chapter was shorter than usual and I must apologize about how long it's been. I have been doing requests for some of my readers and then when I tried to post this one shot, FanFiction totally screwed me over and kept blocking me. I got so frustrated. But now I'm back and I will be updating regularly…er, semi-regularly._


End file.
